


A Fire in His Heart

by seekrest



Series: Merry and Bright [10]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (Or is it?), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Christmas Magic, College Student Peter Parker, Existential Angst, F/M, Light Angst, Medical Inaccuracies, Michelle Jones Needs a Hug, Peter & MJ will always find each other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Peter Parker, Unreliable Narrator, also inspired by Last Christmas, inspired by the grey’s anatomy elevator scene, we saw canon and threw it out the window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21918787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: Even if the melancholy of the time of year draped around him, the city holding a lot of bad memories for as much good - Peter was still looking forward to moving back to New York after graduation.He missed May, missed Tony, missed being Spider-Man.But there was something else about it - something about the city that made him feel alive, the snow falling gently on his face.The promise and the hope of being there, wondering if he’d see anyone else that he’d missed.Peter shivered again as he walked forward, smiling at the thought.Good old New York.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Merry and Bright [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559587
Comments: 42
Kudos: 108





	A Fire in His Heart

Michelle sighs, tapping a pencil against her desk, listening in as her co-workers argued back and forth.

“Seriously? You’d marry Thor? _Thor_? He’s pretty but looks dumb as rocks. I need an intellectual man.”

Michelle hears the scoff from the woman across her, willing herself to be anywhere but here and having to listen to their conversation, the bright fluorescent lighting giving her a headache. 

There’s a ringing in her ears, something that almost sounds like bells in the distance - thinking it must be the door to the elevator dinging from the incoming traffic. Michelle closed her and rubbed her fingers against her temple.

She hated this time of year, the days all blurring together as everyone celebrated a happy time of year that didn’t feel so happy for her. 

Michelle wasn’t a grinch, the holidays were good in the abstract. But this internship aggravated her, wondering why she even signed up for this - if grad school was _really_ worth this - especially as the two continued to drone on. 

“Mark, I love you but I’ve met your last three boyfriends. You have terrible taste in men.”

“Thor isn’t a _man_ , Jen. He’s a god. A literal thunder _god_ —“

“The point stands,” Michelle covers her face with her hands, growing more annoyed by the second as Jen continues, “you _maybe_ fuck Thor, but you’d _marry_ Captain America. Now that is a MAN.”

“For the love of God, thunder or otherwise, can you both please _shut up?_ ” Michelle snaps, fuming as her she lifts her head. 

Neither of them even seem to notice that she has spoken, blathering on like the idiots that they were. Michelle shouldn’t be surprised they ignored her, considering that she’d made it her mission to not talk to anyone in the office if she could help it.

It was a shitty internship for a shitty company. Michelle hated the Bugle - hated everything they stood for, but it was a placeholder - just an internship that would look good on her resume. 

Her mom hated it just as much as she did, but didn’t push Michelle on it - knowing that if she did, she’d only push her away - further at least, then what they already were. 

It wasn’t something Michelle was proud of, how distant the two had gotten - sighing internally at how long it’d been since they last talked. She’d done her best when she was growing up, Michelle could give her that now. 

But even in understanding the difficulties her mom had had while she was growing up, it was much harder to forgive the neglect, no matter how well-intentioned her mom had been - especially since she’d made no real advances in trying to solve the problems that had plagued them. 

Yet she knew her mom would be just as upset that she was wasting her time at a dead-end internship - no matter the supposed goal. She shouldn’t care what she thinks, but she does. 

It didn’t help that Michelle was tired - of life, of the stupid people around her, of the fucking bright flourescent lighting and the gossip of her co-workers, of the Christmas spirit that mocked her and everyone around her acting as if there was something to be happy about. 

Maybe there was, Michelle sighed, leaning back in her chair as Mark and Jen continued to yammer on in the background. 

Michelle couldn’t see it. 

* * *

Peter opens his eyes, glancing up at the sky - the gentle snowfall blocking everything else out. 

It was quiet - more quiet than he ever remembered the city being. It’s peaceful in a way that it shouldn’t be, but Peter had spent so long yearning for home - he doesn’t question it, closing his eyes as the snowflakes fall on his face. 

He can almost hear the people walking around, the blaring of car horns and the whispers of people all rushing past him - just like he’d remembered.

But even if the city is bustling with activity, even if his hearing should allow him the opportunity to hear everything on the island - it’s relatively silent, the sounds almost muted in a way that it hadn’t been in a long time.

It’s peaceful, something Peter had been longing for - opening his eyes as looks around at the crowds - all rushing past him as they did their holiday shopping. 

_Good old New York_ , he thought to himself, amazed at how quickly he’d made it to the city.

It had been a surprise visit - a surprise in the sense that May and Tony knew he was coming but weren’t expecting him this exact weekend, smiling to himself at how excited they would be considering he’d pushed them off and gave excuses.

“Come on kid, you could skip the final and still make an A.” Tony had said through the phone, Peter laughing as he had packed.

“Sure but what kind of example would I be if I did that?”

Tony had snickered at Peter’s question, the memory of that moment warming him even if he still felt a shiver from the cold air around him. He bundles his coat together as he starts to move forward, not wanting to give anyone a chance to push past him as people in the city were likely to do. 

“Not even Spider-Man’s perfect, Pete.” Tony had replied, Peter just walking forward as he shook the memory away.

He hadn’t been Spider-Man consistently since he’d started college, something that still gnawed at him - wondering if he’d made the right decision to hang up his suit while he went to school . 

May had been thrilled - Tony equally so - that he wasn’t at risk of putting himself in danger, aside from normal college shenanigans, for at least four years.

”You have to have balance, sweetheart.” May would tell him anytime he mentioned how guilty he felt. “It’s okay for you to have a life outside everything.”

But it still bothered Peter, a burden to help people so much so that he that made his reappearance in the city anytime he was on break - fueling the rumors that he was flake from the Bugle but considering the alternative of his identity actually being outed - Peter would take it.

He was looking forward to doing it full-time again, even if he hadn’t talked about it much with his family. There was a lingering sense that Peter wanted to cram in as much good as he could, for as long as he could - the brevity of life always weighing on him during the holiday season, considering all he’d lost. 

Yet even with the melancholy of the time of year draped around him, the city holding a lot of bad memories for as much good - he was still looking forward to moving back to New York after graduation. 

He missed May, missed Tony, missed being Spider-Man.

But there was something else about it - something about the city that made him feel alive, the snow falling gently on his face. 

The promise and the hope of being there, wondering if he’d see anyone else that he’d missed.

Peter shivered again as he walked forward, smiling at the thought.

_Good old New York._

* * *

Michelle pushed past the double doors, sighing as she walked out of the Bugle building. It wasn’t that late - the one good thing about the internship is that she could set her own hours, no one even bothering to give her a second glance when she left. 

But despite the time of day, it felt late - the sky already dark as she made her way down the street. 

People milled about, no doubt running around for last minute shopping. Michelle wasn’t in any rush to get anywhere - didn’t really have anywhere to go, even if she’d felt that if she stayed at her desk any longer that she would burst. 

But she was ready to get out of the building, maybe head home - the headache that she’d had all day pressing further behind her eyes, rubbing her temples with her free hand as she shoved the other in her pocket. 

Something stopped her from making a beeline for the subway, a gut feeling - choosing instead to cut across the street and take the long way home, the snowfall reminding her of simpler times.

When she was younger - in elementary school - Michelle remembered how her mom would take her out anytime the snow started to fall, one of the few good memories she had growing up. 

Michelle could remember one time in particular, when her mom had been running late - the babysitter tsking and checking her watch, Michelle feeling small and unwanted and lost among as parents showed up to pick up their children - until Michelle was the only one left.

She couldn’t say now what had caused her mom to be late - the traffic, the boss Michelle knew now was awful to her - but it hadn’t mattered at the time, seven years old and feeling even more abandoned than she usually did.

But her mother had made it up to her, the best way she could - taking her out from the stuffy apartment and bringing her to Central Park - making snow angels on a fresh bed of snow. 

It was dangerous now that she thought of it, walking the park at night. But it was that same sense of longing, that memory that brought her towards it - even if there was a ringing in the back of her mind, a whisper of something saying that there was more to it than that, drawing her forward.

Michelle ignored it, only for a moment - if only because the closer she walked to the park - the more her headache lifted, something she couldn’t explain but considering how much pain she’d been in all day, didn’t question.

She took a few steps, minding where ice would be only to freeze - standing in place when she glances up and sees him, someone that Michelle hasn’t seen in years. 

Of all the people she’d expected to see tonight - or ever - it wasn’t Peter Parker, scrambling as she tried to figure out a way to duck out of the way before he saw her. 

It shouldn’t matter if he did - it didn’t, not really - aside from the embarrassingly obvious crush she’d had on him in high school, being far too awkward to do anything about it then. 

The Blip had made everything weird, the trauma of it all bonding everyone who had left in a way that was unique. But aside from learning about a world that had tried to move on from something that was impossible, the rest of their high school years passed by in a blur - Michelle wondering then why she’d been so nervous around him. 

He’d been so quiet after the Blip, no doubt dealing with whatever trauma that he’d faced doing whatever it was that Spider-Man did during everything. 

She’d figured out his secret and had kept it, confirming her suspicions when Spider-Man mysteriously stopped showing up around the city after graduation - only making appearances around the same time MIT had holiday breaks. 

Peter Parker had always been interesting, but they’d never become more than casual friends - wondering now if her awkward streak was really something she’d outgrown or if it would rear its ugly head again if he saw her.

Michelle really wasn’t interested in finding out, considering the day she’d had - even if her headache had started to go away - looking for the least obvious way to do an about-turn when suddenly he turns, glancing towards her before doing a double take.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._ Michelle thinks, seeing the way his face lights up in a smile - instantly recognizing her just as she had recognized him.

“MJ? MJ, you’re-- hi.” Peter says, taking the steps necessary to bridge the distance between them, Michelle shaking herself as she smiles.

“Hey Peter, how are you?” He looks like he’s going to lean in for a hug only to awkwardly pause, seemingly remembering how much she’d avoided physical touch in high school. But Michelle’s already had a weird day, wondering if it really could get any weirder, leaning forward to give him a hug back.

Peter instantly leans into it, Michelle hating how warm his hug was even as he shivered, the jacket he was wearing smelling like a mix of leather and the cologne he wore. 

She couldn’t remember if Peter used to wear cologne before, but considering it’d been a few years since high school - things could change. 

She certainly hopes she has. 

“Good, good, I’m good.” Peter answers, a smile so wide that it lights up his whole face - Michelle smirking to herself that for as much as she’d changed since high school, this part of Peter hadn’t.

A kindness that just radiated off of him, good-natured and warm - something in her chest fluttering at seeing the crinkle of his eyes. The long buried crush she’d had comes roaring to life, Michelle trying to swallow it down for being the ridiculous thing that it was. 

It’d been almost four years since she’d seen Peter in person, keeping tabs on him through social media and not much else. She shouldn’t feel this excited about seeing him again. 

“How are you?” Peter asks, stepping back from the hug as she shrugs.

“Had better days honestly, but you know. It’s life.” 

Peter nods again like he understands before saying, “Yeah.”

It’s silent for a beat, Michelle thinking this is her chance to give him the brush off - say something to the effect that it was nice to see him again, mention how they should meet up, knowing neither of them would. 

But before she gets a chance to, Peter pipes up again, asking, “So how’s school? You’re at NYU right?”

Michelle nods, thinking they both looked like bobbleheads for as much as they were moving their heads. “Yeah, senior year. You know how it is. MIT right?” She gestures towards him, like she didn’t know what classes he was in based on the obnoxious hashtags he used all over his social media posts.

Peter laughs, a sound that instantly brings a smirk to her face - remembering how much she’d used to enjoy hearing the sound back when she was an idiot teenager, imagining herself in love with him. 

She takes him in just then, studying his features - Peter looking so similar to how he did when they were in high school with some changes. His hair was a little longer, the circles under his eyes a little deeper - the result of a finals season she gathered - but aside from the change in clothing and obvious use of cologne, it was still her Peter.

 _Not mine_ , she thinks - Peter’s next words bringing her out of her thoughts. 

“Yeah, it’s… well you know how it is.” He scratches the back of his neck before saying, “I miss New York though.” 

The way he says it almost implies that he meant something else, Michelle swallowing down the irrational hope of what her mind wants to fill in the blanks for as she says, “I don’t know why. I should’ve went to Harvard. Staying in the city was a mistake.” 

Peter shrugs, a twinkle in his eye as he says, “I don’t know, MJ. Something special about it you know? Especially now, like this.” He waves his hand around the park, Michelle following his gaze. 

The city was usually filled with smog, sweat and an assortment of other smells that Michelle didn’t care to dwell on. But waving his hand around, Michelle could almost _see_ what Peter was saying - a sense of home and of belonging that only became from being a native New Yorker.

It was loud, the people were obnoxious and the tourists were a nightmare.

But it was home, it always would be. Michelle could understand what he was meaning. 

“So you here for the holidays?” Michelle asks, bringing Peter’s attention back to her, smiling at her.

“Yeah, uh, it’s a surprise actually.” He leans in conspiratorially, as if she was in on some secret with him - forcing her breathing to remain steady from how close he was when he said, “Don’t tell May. Not supposed to be here for another few days.” 

Michelle crosses her heart, Peter smiling even wider as she says, “Scout’s honor.”

“You were a Girl Scout?” 

“It’s an expression, Parker.” Michelle rolls her eyes, Peter grinning. 

“That’s not a no.”

Michelle sighs, side-stepping the statement as he says, “So if you’re supposed to be surprising May, why are you out here just,” she gestures towards the park, “loitering?”

Peter gets an odd expression on his face, surprised almost that he hadn’t considered what he was doing. Michelle almost wants to apologize - though for what, she doesn’t know - before he says, “I-- I don’t know just…” Peter trails off, eyes cast downward as he thinks.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business.” 

Peter locks eyes with her again, smiling though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he says, “That’s never stopped you before.”

“Ouch?” Michelle asks, Peter’s eyes widening a little as he tries to recover.

“No I mean-- I didn’t mean it like that. Just that you--” Peter sighs, his shoulders slumping, “You were always really blunt in high school.”

“Sorry?” Michelle tilts her head slightly, Peter grinning as he asks, “Do you mean that?”

“No.” He laughs this time, the smile on her lips inescapable as she continues. “But really, it’s none of my business what you do with your time, Parker. If you want to stare out into the distance,” she waves towards the air, “have at it.”

Peter just smiles, his eyes steadily staring into hers until Michelle’s heart skips a beat, cursing her bodies natural reaction to being in Peter Parker’s orbit once more - wishing that the years away from him didn’t still have this effect on her.

“It was nice seeing you.” She says, his gaze unmoving as she presses her lips together. 

She feels an unexplainable urge to hang out with him, to ask him to coffee or to just… be.

But he has somewhere to be - people who were waiting for him, a part of her wondering if he was still affiliated with Tony Stark considering how much the now retired hero seemed to still speak in favor of Spider-Man.

Michelle swallows down that feeling too, knowing it was irrational. Even if she had nowhere to be, he clearly did - and aside from that, they didn’t really know each other - hadn’t spent any length of time together since high school, not even really being one-on-one then. 

But then Peter surprises her, asking, “Are you busy?” 

“Huh?” 

Her response just makes him laugh, shaking his head as he says, “Sorry, just-- I don’t know. I have some time to kill. I could stare off into nothing,” Peter playfully rolls his eyes, Michelle smirking as he says, “But I think I’d much rather catch up with you? It’s been awhile.”

He says the words like they mean something, like they’re old friends rather than just old high school classmates. Michelle wants to say yes but forces herself to act rationally, asking instead, “Isn’t your aunt waiting for you?”

Peter nods again before saying, “I mean yeah, but she doesn’t know I’m coming. Not tonight at least.”

He shrugs his shoulders, shivering again as he shoves his hands into his pockets - Michelle wondering why he was so cold when he had on more layers than she did, as he says, “I don’t know. No pressure I mean, I’m here for the whole break. If you’re not free, we can meet up some other time if you want. Or not, you know.” 

He laughs awkwardly at that, like he’s giving her an out - Michelle seeing it for what it is. There’s no reason for her to say yes, no reason to keep him away from the family he clearly he has waiting for him.

But Michelle surprises her own self with the words that come out of her mouth, tumbling forward before she can stop them

“I’m free. I mean, like now. If you are.” 

It’s awkward - _she’s_ awkward - cursing the fact that being around Peter Parker still has this effect on her. But Peter just smiles at that, relaxing slightly as he bobs his head once again.

“Awesome. Want to get some coffee?”

* * *

Peter shivers again, the cold starting to affect him even though he tries to hide it - knowing Michelle’s given him the once over several times as they’ve walked through the park. 

She’d agreed to coffee but they still hadn’t migrated towards any particular coffee shop, anyone they came across having increasingly longer lines as they passed them by. 

But from the way she looked at him, Michelle must sense that he’s freezing - Peter cursing the fact that he hadn’t taken Tony up on his offer on creating some kind of souped up jacket that had heat warmers in it.

“You’ll need it, kid.” He’d said as much the last time he saw him, Peter just waving him off. 

He regretted it now, shaking slightly as Michelle pursed her lips. 

“You want to head inside somewhere?” She asks, Peter shivering in response until he shakes his head - staving it off as he says, “No, no, I’m good. Sorry, just-- shit, it’s freezing. How are you not cold right now?”

Michelle shrugs, Peter taking notice at the way her curls bounced as she did so. “I’ve always run warm. I’m not _weak_ like some people.”

Michelle smirks, something in Peter’s chest tightening as she does so - a pressure building in the middle that just makes him smile in return. 

He’d forgotten how pretty she was - a lie, he never _really_ forgot about MJ - and being around her again reminded him of how much of an idiot he’d been in high school, wondering why he never got the courage to ask her out back then.

Peter could forgive himself for it, considering all the things he’d been dealing with then - lingering PTSD from something that hardly anyone really remembered but that he did vividly, almost shivering again not from the cold but from the memory of what it felt like to fade away into nothing. 

It wasn’t until senior year that he started to feel something like normal again, though now Peter could recognize that _normal_ was something he could never really be.

But by then it’d seemed almost too late, Michelle being just the same as she’d ever been with him - both headed to separate colleges and not really being anymore more than casual friends, if that. 

May had encouraged him to keep in touch with her, even Tony gently teasing him about it. But Peter hadn't, the years slipping by him before he had the chance to think about how much he’d missed out. 

He really can’t believe his luck - seeing her again all these years later, walking beside her and catching up, even if he’d inwardly groaned at the idea that she was interning at the Bugle - though she seemed to hate it just as much as he disliked the idea.

Peter didn’t really know Michelle all that well in high school but what he did, he’d liked - how smart she was, how funny, how wildly observant she’d been and how that translated into leadership skills for the AcaDec team. 

It bothers him now that he hadn’t taken advantage of the chance to get to know her better then, some kind of unexplainable feeling that he’d missed out on something - though what he didn’t really know or want to accept - chasing away that thought as he changes the subject. 

“So you said you wanted to go to grad school?” Peter asked as if he didn’t already know the answer, the little tidbits of information that he heard about her from Betty’s posts on social media.

Michelle sighs, the two of them walking in step with each other on the crowded sidewalk. 

“Yeah, that’s the plan at least. I don’t know. Going into debt just for an extra piece of paper doesn’t really seem worth it.”

“What do you want to do?” Peter asks, watching as she chews the inside of her cheek.

“I don’t know. I mean, I do,” she gestures with one hand, “I like the idea of law school, but tackling the criminal justice system just seems…” She trails off but Peter nods like he understands - feeling in a way that he does, considering his side-career as a masked vigilante. 

“It’s a lot to take on.” 

“Yeah,” Michelle replies, sneaking a glance back at him. “How about you? What’s your plan after graduation?”

Peter snorts, at her words but also her tone - affecting the kind of voice that a nosy family member would have. 

“I think I’m gonna work for SI maybe. My uh, old high school internship was great and I still have an in so,” Peter shrugs, wondering if it made him sound like he was ‘leveraging his connections’ as his academic advisor would call it or more like he was bragging, kicking himself at the thought as he continues, “I don’t know, I still have time.”

Michelle makes a sound almost like a snort, Peter glancing back to her as she says, “Must be nice to have options.”

“Sorry, I know that sounded pretentious as hell.” 

“It does.” Michelle answers, Peter cringing until she turns to look at him, the faintest smile on her face, “But _you’re_ not so, I’ll give you a pass.” 

“Oh well if you’ll give me a pass then,” Peter exaggerates his shrug, Michelle rolling her eyes as he does so, “everything’s perfect.”

“Whatever, Parker. I know you care about my opinion way more than you’re letting on.” She seems surprised by her own words, Peter’s stomach doing flip flops and the pressure on his chest increasing as she stops in the middle of the street.

She’s right - she always was, thinking that even if it’d been years since he’s seen her that he has an almost unbearable desire for Michelle to approve everything about him - feeling like he was sixteen again, psyching himself up to talk to her. 

Michelle immediately seems contrite, Peter stopping in the middle of the sidewalk with her as she says, “Sorry, that’s-- _super_ arrogant. I’m sorry. I don’t-- I don’t know why I said that.” 

“It’s true.” Peter whispers, wanting to make her feel better but also believing that it was - catching the surprised look on her face. 

He shivers again, his toes feeling colder as he dances around in place - wondering if he’d worn another hole in them since the streets were slick with snow and ice. 

Michelle seems flabbergasted at his words but recovers quickly - as she always did, Peter’s mind trying to rationalize that this knowledge came from his memories from high school as she said, “Well _clearly_ it’s _true_ but I still shouldn’t have said it.”

Peter grins. “It’s good to say what you feel right? Brutal honesty?” 

“Maybe not _brutally_ honest but yeah,” Michelle starts to walk forward again, Peter turning as they did so - thankful that their little stop in the middle of the sidewalk hadn’t brought any of the stereotypical anger or frustration from the people passing them as she continued, “It’s good to be upfront.” 

“Then I’m glad I bumped into you again, MJ.” He says, Michelle nudging him with her elbow.

“You’re trying to make me feel better.”

“Maybe,” he answers honestly, but then he catches her eye - smiling and meaning every word as he says, “But it’s still true.”

* * *

Michelle had forgotten how much she’d liked being around Peter Parker. 

The sun had already been gone when she exited the Bugle and though she hadn’t checked the time, it felt like she’d been with him for hours without once feeling bored - the headache she’d had before still a low hum in the background, the bells from Salvation Army santas and car horns blaring agitating her slightly but not enough to make her want to rush home.

She’d forgotten how funny Peter was, though a part of her wonders if she’d ever really known that - her only memories of Peter making jokes in high school coming from overhearing him and Ned and the unintentionally funny conversations they would have when they thought no one else was listening.

And no one wasn’t - people hadn’t paid much attention to Peter then - but she did. 

They walked in what felt like circles, Peter shivering more and more as they walked - a part of Michelle wondering if maybe it was a spider thing.

She hadn’t done a lot of research into Spider-Man as an entity, only really feeling terrified when she’d read the news about all the shit he’d get into - knowing what the city didn’t that it had been a sixteen-year old kid underneath the mask.

It’s something Michelle desperately wants to ask him about, now - years removed from high school and feeling much braver than she had ever been as a teeanger. 

She’d had an opening when he mentioned SI, confirming her suspicions that he was still close to Tony Stark. She didn’t care much for the man - as a person much less as a symbol for late-stage capitalism.

But Peter had nearly worshipped the ground he walked on in high school and clearly still was in contact with him to some extent.

It made her wonder what she was missing, what gaps in her knowledge that needed to be filled - though she squashes that thought for being as ridiculous as it was. 

She didn’t need to fill in any knowledge about Peter, she barely knew him now - though it seemed that whatever awkward friendship they’d had in high school was enough to smooth over the differences they’d had - making them fall into step with each other like they’d been best friends. 

_In another life, maybe we would’ve been_ , Michelle thinks - wondering if the Blip hadn’t been so all-consuming and terrifying for everyone what their life would’ve been like. 

But Michelle can’t bring herself to dwell too much on what-ifs, not when her sixteen-year old daydream of talking to Peter Parker without stumbling over herself was coming true right in front of her eyes. 

“So fuck, marry, kill. Avengers edition.” Michelle asks, thinking her co-workers were good for something, if only for the bright shade of red that Peter turned.

“Uh…”

“You’re right, too many options.” Michelle purses her lips, pretending to be in deep thought even if she’s really just asked the question to mess with him. “I’ll pass on Iron Man cause I know you had an internship with Stark back in high school, so how about,” Michelle counts off on her fingers, “Thor, Black Widow, Spider-Man.” 

Peter swallows. “Uh, well…”

“Scratch that, I think everyone would want to fuck, marry and then have Black Widow kill them so,” Michelle’s enjoying this more and more by the way Peter’s eyes almost bug out as she says, “Thor, Spider-Man and Hulk. Final pairings.”

Peter lets out something that sounds like a mix between a cough and a strangled cry, Michelle being glad that the years since high school had given her a lot more confidence. Maybe it was the cold air, the feel of the city, feeling a lot more free with Peter than she’d ever had before. 

They hadn’t seen each other in years, probably wouldn’t see each other again after tonight.

 _What do I have to lose by messing with him?_

“You know my internship involved like… working with all of them right?”

“Did it?” Michelle asks, feigning curiosity even if there’s a lilt of truth to it. She didn’t know the real extent of whether Spider-Man was officially an Avenger - considering his recent disappearing act around the city that she knew was a result of Peter being away for college.

But she was massively intrigued by the cover story Peter had created. 

“So you know them all?”

“I do--did, I did.” Peter swallows, Michelle almost seeing the gears turn behind his eyes as he scratches the back of his neck.

She can see his breath as he exhales, another shiver as he thinks. It’s cold out but not _that_ cold, Michelle still feeling comfortably warm.

“You sure you don’t want to head inside somewhere?”

Peter dismisses it, saying, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to think.” 

He turns to her for a moment, Michelle looking back at him when he gets a mischievous look on his face. 

“Why don’t you answer first?”

“That’s not how the game works, Parker.” 

“Well I _know_ them, or know them better than most people do.” He argues, Michelle recognizing his diversion tactic but appreciating it all the same. “I’m a lot more interested in what you think.”

Michelle makes a gamble with herself, seeing the conversation unfold in one of two ways.

For one, she could answer - give the answer that would make him blush, stammer a bit when she says she’d kill Hulk, fuck Thor and marry Spider-Man - just to see the look on his face. 

Or she could take a gamble - knowing she really had nothing to lose, something about the night and the city air making her feel like she could, or _should_ , take the chance that she has. 

Like this night was special, like she should be honest with him - in a way that doesn’t make sense considering how long it’s been since they’ve known each other. 

But that something nudges her towards the second option, letting herself follow it - smirking as she replies, “I don’t know, I think I’m biased.”

“Why do you say that?” Peter asks, Michelle watching him steadily as she answers.

“Cause I know Spider-Man too.”

Peter stops in his tracks, almost stumbling over himself - a lot less gracefully than what she expected from someone who has the kind of agility that he does. 

Peter studies her for a second, schooling his features as he asks, “You know Spider-Man?”

She stares at him for a beat, something flickering in Peter’s eyes as she smiles. 

“I got a good guess.” 

Peter swallows again, eyes going elsewhere. It’s almost like she can hear his heart beating through his chest, a ringing in her ears at how much he’s panicking.

She almost wants to back up, give him an out, make a joke that makes it seem like she’s just messing with him.

But something she can’t explain makes her hold her ground, staring at him in silence until his eyes meet hers again - the realization of what she knew dawning on him as his lips press firmly together. 

It’s quiet between them - just staring into his eyes, enough that Michelle feels something in her stomach flutter before he relents, seeing him shiver and sigh as he asks, “How long have you known?”

“You’re terrible at keeping secrets.” Michelle smiles. “ _And_ you and Ned never knew how to shut up in gym class.”

Peter groans, rubbing his temples - Michelle finally feeling the cold air as she tries to warm herself. 

“This is… well,” Peter lets out a laugh, shaking his head as he says, “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

He answers her like she’d always hoped, taking it in stride - a feature of it being so long since they’ve seen each other and his quick thinking, likely trusting that if she hadn’t told his secret by now she never would.

“I’m observant.” Michelle offers, Peter smiling.

“I know.”

* * *

Peter can’t stop shivering. 

He’s freezing - the only rationale that he can think of for admitting so cleanly that he was Spider-Man to Michelle without much pushback.

It was part of it, definitely - feeling his mind start to get cloudy and tired in a way that he can only contribute to post-finals stress. But there was also something completely disarming about being around her again, something in his gut that told him that it was okay for him to just… be open with her.

So he did.

Michelle was observant but also wildly curious - asking him so many questions that she almost reminded him of Ned, the thought occurring to him that he hadn’t texted him yet that he was in the city. 

He hadn’t texted May or Tony, now that he thought about it - so distracted by getting the chance to see Michelle again that even when he realized it, he’d get distracted by something Michelle would ask.

May and Tony - he needed to contact them, he knew that - but he being around Michelle again was like a gift he hadn’t realized he’d even wanted until he got it, his crush on her from high school coming back in full force the longer he was with her.

There was something he was missing - something just underneath the surface that he couldn’t put a name to or maybe didn’t want to face, even if the senses that usually alerted him to danger hadn’t gone off - everything being muted in a way that was muffled, peaceful, nice even.

Peter swallows that down, focusing instead on the person next to him - even as something tightens in his chest and the cold starts to crawl all over him. 

He didn’t have to dwell on that, nor did he allow himself to really think about the fact that he hadn’t contacted May or Tony like he’d planned yet. 

It felt almost like a secret, being in the city without their knowledge - a surprise waiting to happen.

They could wait a little bit longer, even else - something small - told Peter that they’d be waiting for a long time, a thought that doesn’t make sense but he dismisses it. 

Besides, he reasoned, it gave him more time to hang out with Michelle - to get to know her again, make her smile and laugh like he was funny. 

He didn’t think he’d ever get to see her again, it was almost impossible that he had.

Peter wasn’t going to question it yet. 

* * *

On some level Michelle recognizes that they’ve been out for too late. 

It was getting late, it had to be - seeing the way Peter’s eyes got glassy as they talked, asking him questions about MIT and what he planned to do next, the knowledge that he was Spider-Man giving him enough freedom to seemingly talk about his plans without any kind of reservation.

Peter was nice, funny - not nearly as awkward as he’d been in high school but neither was she.

Talking to him felt comfortable, like all the conversations she used to imagine in the daydreams she would never admit to having about him when she was in high school. 

But Michelle wasn’t really tired, didn’t really want the night to end - something nudging in the back of her mind not to dwell on it too much, even if the headache she had kept creeping in at the most inopportune times. 

It got worse when they found themselves by a hot dog stand, the guy paying them no mind as Michelle wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“What? You a ketchup person?” Peter asked, smirking as he watched the vendor pour mustard all over the hot dog before giving it to person waiting. 

“No, I’m not an animal.” Michelle replies, rubbing her temples as she sighed. “It’s just… this damn headache.”

“Migraine?” Peter asks but she just shakes her head, wincing as she does so - the action making the city feel a lot louder than what it was. 

It was almost as if she could hear the voices of everyone around her that much more magnified, car horns blaring and people shouting - even if she knew that it wasn’t possible, her mind likely playing tricks on her since Peter had explained his powers to her.

“No. Just a headache.” 

She glanced over to Peter, seeing the concerned look on his face only to realize that something was immediately different.

It takes her a beat to realize it’s that he’s standing still - hasn’t shivered once, only noticeable because for however long they’ve been out together, it felt like he’d done it every five seconds. 

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Peter asks, glancing down at himself before looking back at her, watching as he absentmindedly rubbed at his chest. 

“You stopped shivering.”

Peter blinks a few times, eyebrows furrowing as if the knowledge of that confused him - glancing away.

She almost doesn’t hear his whispered reply, involuntarily leaning forward as he says, “I don’t feel cold anymore.” 

Something passes over Peter then, a look in his eyes that she doesn’t recognize that stirs something in her - something that she’s not seeing, the kind of look that tells her that something’s going on with him.

But before she gets the chance to ask, Peter’s attention snaps back to hers - the smile on his face so wide that she almost gets whiplash at the sudden mood change. 

“Yankees or Mets?”

Michelle wants to laugh, giving him a look as he just smiles.

“Is that even a question?”

“You haven’t answered it.” Peter counters.

“ _Mets_ , obviously.”

“An underdog. I can respect it.” Peter shrugs, putting his hands in his pocket as he grins - Michelle feeling like there’s something that she’s missing but letting herself get distracted anyway, tilting her head. 

“You saying you like the _Yankees_?”

Peter snorts, winks in a way that makes something in her chest flutter - the headache receding slightly as he says, “Nope. Mets all the way.” 

A beat. Another smirk on his face.

“ _Obviously._ ”

* * *

There’s no one moment that happens where Peter recognizes the truth. 

A lie, his mind supplies - the shivering had been a tell. But it wasn’t the only sign, something Peter just pushes out his mind now - knowing that if he let himself dwell too much on the implications that it would only cause him to panic or upset Michelle.

Something he desperately didn’t want to do, all things considered. 

He wondered if he should contact May or Tony, if he even could - the thought of what this would mean ached at something his chest, more than it already did. 

He should’ve contacted them, should’ve told them he was coming so they could’ve expected him - should’ve called them as soon as he got into the city.

But something told Peter it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, a feeling that even if he’d tried, the call wouldn’t have gone through. 

Peter just rubbed his chest again, the pressure building less from Michelle being beside him but because of something else, something he wasn’t ready to fully accept just yet - even as Michelle just stared curiously at him.

“You okay?” She asks, Peter catching her eye.

They were in Central Park again, the snow still falling - the stars still shining, impossibly so - something Peter recognizes what it is.

“Yeah, probably just heartburn or something.” Peter lies, Michelle’s eyes narrowing as if she could sense the fact that he was.

“I didn’t think Spider-Man could get heartburn.” 

Someone passes by them then but Peter doesn’t even think to shush her or try and get Michelle to be quiet, not when it didn’t really matter anyway - not if he’s right. 

Instead he just shrugs, a smile on his face that only makes the look on Michelle’s face turn into a frown. 

“You never know. Weirder things have happened.”

* * *

Peter was hiding something.

Michelle thought she had figured out his secrets - the _biggest_ one at least - racking her brain as she tried to remember if there was something else that she’d missed. 

There was something else nudging at her, just to enjoy it - enjoy being around Peter and not to dwell on anything else. 

But Michelle had never been one to just blindly accept anything, even if the reason for why she hadn’t gone home yet popped up in the forefront of her mind. 

The headache was there, back in full force - rubbing her temples again as they came up to the same hot dog stand as before. 

“Headache again?” Peter asks, Michelle closing her eyes a she winces.

It was more intense now, more intense than it had been all night. Peter gently lays a hand to her, the warmth from his hand not feeling nearly as warm as it should - a thought she chases away as she allows him to lead her to a park bench.

They sit, Michelle putting her head in her hands as Peter begins to rub soft circles on her back.

It’s nice, weirdly intimate - more physical contact than he’d ever given her, that same fluttering in her chest that almost felt like a jolt of electricity as his hands continued to move. 

She sighs, the headache receding only slightly as she lifts her head - seeing the warm smile on his face. 

“Better?”

“A little.” She answers, Peter realizing his hand was still on her back as he gently lifts it. 

“Sorry, something May used to do for me, when I’d get sensory overload.”

Michelle nods as if that makes sense to her, in a way thinking that it did as another car horn blared - a distant thought running through her head why she was hearing one so deep into the park, why a hot dog stand and vendor were there. 

She glanced to him for a second, watching the man pour mustard over the hot dog and giving it to the person waiting. 

It’s familiar - they just passed this guy it seemed not even twenty minutes ago. 

But it hadn’t been twenty minutes ago, or maybe it had - Michelle feeling something in her chest tighten as she watched the interaction between the vendor and the customer.

It was all so familiar, of course it would be. The hot dog guy’s job wasn’t that hard, same process - she saw them all the time. 

But Peter must sense her discomfort, nudging her with his elbow as he asks, “You okay?”

“I’m--” Her throat feels dry all of a sudden, a flicker of recognition for why the scene was so familiar to her. 

It was familiar because she’d seen it. Not something like it, not a similar vendor and customer.

The same one. 

It’s the same interaction. 

“I’m-- did we come here already?”

She glances over to Peter, seeing an odd expression on his face - pressing his lips firmly together as he glanced to her, to where she was pointing and then back to her.

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, Michelle getting the feeling like he’s stalling - almost avoiding the question as her eyes narrow. 

“What do you mean, _what do I mean_?” Michelle asks, feeling herself start to get frustrated. “I mean, have we-- did we pass by this already?” 

Peter looks like he’s debating something within himself, an infuriating thought since by now - after a whole night together, getting to know each other again like no time had passed at all - she would’ve thought they could be open with each other. 

She already knew his biggest secret. What more could he be hiding from her?

“It’s not that hard of a question, Parker.” Michelle prods, Peter’s lips just pressing firmly together as her eyes narrow. 

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” 

Peter blinks for a second, rubbing his chest again. 

“Like that.”

“What?” He asks, Michelle pointing a finger to his chest.

“You’re-- you keep doing that. You’ve been doing it all night.” 

Michelle’s mind supplies to her that he hadn’t, it’d only started an hour ago - _had it been an hour?_ \- thinking that really he’d been shivering before. 

Her headache comes back in full force, her thoughts all running together - feeling frazzled as she closed her eyes again. 

“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” Peter whispers, like he knows something she doesn’t - or feeling that that he knows something that she’s not willing to accept. 

“Talk about _what_?” Michelle asks through gritted teeth, pressing on her temples - the nudging in the back of her mind feeling like it’s growing, getting louder as more car horns start to blare in her ears. 

“It’s okay, MJ.” 

“It’s-- what? What are you even talking about right now?” Michelle snaps, opening her eyes and standing up - Peter looking at her in surprise as she does so. 

“You’re-- you’re not making any sense. I’m,” she sighs, “It’s been nice getting to hang out with you Peter, really, I’ve loved catching up but I think I’m gonna head home.” 

Peter stands up then, looking sad as he asks, “Are you sure?” 

Michelle takes a step back, the look in his eyes freezing her in place before he seems to realize how he must look, taking a step away from her as he exhales. 

“Sorry, sorry I didn’t--” he rubs at his chest harder, Michelle frowning as he says, “I didn’t mean to scare you or come on too strong I just--”

“What’s going on?” Michelle asks, Peter’s hand is still to his chest as he sighs, meeting her gaze for a beat before he brings his hand down.

It’s quiet between them - tense, more than it had been when she’d called him out on being Spider-Man. But he relents, sighing in something that almost sounded like defeat. 

“I think you know.”

Michelle rolls her eyes. “No, I don’t, Peter. I wouldn’t ask you if--”

“I drove here to the city.”

The tone in Peter’s voice stops her in her tracks, watching as he just stares into her eyes as he continues. 

“I drove here. I was-- I was driving here.” 

“Okay…” Michelle begins, Peter shaking his head.

“Where’s my car, MJ?”

Michelle snorts, shrugging her shoulders. “How the hell am I supposed to know? You were the one walking through Central Park at night.”

“Exactly.” He says confidently, taking a step toward her. “Exactly. I--” He closes his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath as if finding the courage to continue, something that makes Michelle’s stomach drop for reasons she’s not willing to face as he says, “I don’t remember getting to the city.” 

Michelle just slowly shakes her head, the nudging in the back of her mind screaming at her just like the splitting headache and the car alarms in the background started to get louder. 

“I’m not following--”

“I was driving. I was driving to the city, MJ. And then suddenly I was here.” Peter says meaningfully, almost imploring her to understand something that she can’t - not with the headache that feels like it’s ripping through her skull, not with the blaring car alarms in the background. 

“How did I get here, MJ? How did I get into the city, when I don’t remember where I parked my car?”

“I don’t-- I don’t know, how am I supposed to--”

“When did you get to work today?” Peter asks, cutting her off again.

Michelle just blinks at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Work.” He says, more intensely this time - a fierce expression his face. “When did you get into work today?”

“Same time I always do? Morning time, I don’t know.” Michelle answers, even if the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grows deeper when she realizes that she _doesn’t_ remember. 

“What time, MJ? When did you get to the Bugle? Did you talk to anyone? How was your day?” 

She runs through her memories - tries to at least, only for her mind to scream at her - the headache blocking everything out as her gaze shifts downwards. 

She’d been listening to Mark and Jen this morning - _this afternoon?_ \- all day. Like any other day. They all blurred together anyway--

But it hits her, freezing her into place. 

Michelle can’t remember when she went into work today.

The realization that she can’t hits at something in her gut, snapping her eyes back to Peter’s - still staring at her with a look that she can’t place but that feels oddly familiar, something almost like regret. 

“I don’t-- I don’t know what that’s supposed to--”

“I haven’t called May or Tony.” Peter begins, swallowing something down in his throat. “I kept trying to, sort of. Anytime I would want to, I’d get distracted. Like I couldn’t. Like I _can’t_.” His voice breaks a little at that, Michelle feeling something in her own throat - something she can’t explain as she starts to shake her head.

The car horns are so _loud_ now, so loud they almost sound like alarms. 

“I don’t understand.” She says through gritted teeth, even if something is telling her that she does - something she doesn’t want to face. 

A memory of something comes to her, the snow starting to fall around them - reminding Michelle again of her mom and the nights she’d take her outside as it fell. 

It’s almost like she can hear her again, her soft voice whispering that everything was going to be okay - a hand on her shoulder, on her forehead, gentle murmuring like she used to do when she was young. 

“Peter. What’s going on?”

“I’m… I don’t know.”

The uncertainty in his voice is enough to bring her out of whatever memory that she’d slipped into - something telling her that it wasn’t a memory even if she dismisses that as being ridiculous. 

“What do you mean you don’t know? What does-- you’re not making any sense.” 

“Think about it, MJ. We haven’t seen each other in years.” 

Michelle just stares at him, grinding her teeth as he looks back.

“And? We saw each other again. It’s been nice. It was-- it _is_ nice. Two friends can’t just meet each other again?” She asks, Peter’s eyes searching hers. 

“They can. But we were never really just friends were we?”

Michelle’s mouth feels dry again, swallowing down something as he smiles - a soft and sad one as he continues. 

“I liked you so much in high school. More than you know.”

It’s a realization that in any other moment would’ve rocked her world - would’ve completely thrown her off her axis at the realization that the boy she’d pined over for years had liked her back. 

But there’s a greater realization churning in her gut, something she desperately doesn’t want to face even if she’s starting to get the sense that she can’t run away from it - a small suspicion that what Peter is saying may be true but was also exactly what she wanted to hear. 

“I really liked you too.” Michelle whispers back, Peter’s smile growing as he nods. 

“Yeah, I-- I kind of figured. If we’re-- if this is happening right now.”

He laughs, a sharp one as he runs a hand through his hair. “Or maybe it’s not. Maybe this is all just in our heads.”

“No I mean, I’m here. I’m-- _I’m_ here.” Michelle says, almost as if to affirm that she’s real - even if she’s starting to get the feeling and the sense that while she is that this - this night, this moment - wasn’t. 

Accepting that tiny thing - just a small sliver of doubt at her reality makes everything start to rush back to her - a horrifying clarity as she takes account of her day.

Jen and Mark hadn’t just ignored her - they hadn’t even acknowledged her or her outburst, no one had. No one had even looked at her as she’d walked passed them. 

Michelle had found Peter out of nowhere - a city of millions and just like a coincidence, there he was - standing in the middle of the sidewalk like he was waiting for her. 

The coffee shops that they couldn’t find, the hot dog vendor repeating, the sense of time dragging on - an intense desire to go home that immediately lifted as soon as she saw Peter. 

It’s the headache that reminds her of what happened - the car horns that she allows herself to recognize them not as car horns but as alarms - blaring ones from the machines that she’s currently hooked up to. 

If she lets herself, she can almost feel it - the scratchiness of the blanket, the whirl of people around her, the whispers from her mom - can almost smell the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. 

Michelle had gone into the Bugle, but she couldn’t remember when. 

She couldn’t remember when she’d gone home. 

And now looking at Peter’s eyes, the understanding snapping into place as she stares back at him - Michelle wonders if she really wants to. 

* * *

“Is this real?”

They’re sitting on a park bench now, Michelle wringing her hands together - Peter just waiting patiently as she comes to grip with everything. 

He’s not even sure of the answer, not sure he wants to know it - only a few things that he could concretely understand. 

Peter remembers driving down the road, the dark and slick pavement, the snowfall that he could barely see through - his only thoughts being how intensely he missed May, missed Tony.

Missed New York. 

A loop and endless cycle of missing May, missing Tony, missing New York.

He remembers thinking of the city, thinking of _who_ was still in the city - wondering how Michelle was doing.

It had been a fleeting thought - one sandwiched in with all the others, but no less important - thinking of how he should reach out to her when he was home, finally taking May up on her advice - especially if he’d be moving back to the city after graduation.

Peter remembers that and then he remembers opening his eyes, suddenly being in the middle of the city - without his car, without ever remember parking it, arriving - knowing that the minute he would’ve arrived, he would’ve gone straight to the May’s apartment. 

Would’ve texted Tony immediately. 

It hit him earlier in the night - if there was such a thing as earlier - right around the time he stopped shivering - that he couldn’t remember when he had made it to the city for a reason.

Because he never had. 

There’s a part of him that registered the cold in the abstract, the feel of the snow underneath him - the pressure in his chest that he was feeling now, fading - as some kind of recognition that his lung had collapsed, flashes of swerving to avoid something in the road - a deer? Another car? Peter wasn’t sure.

Weightlessness. Glass crackling. The memory of it comes in spurts. In waves. Peter’s not even sure if he trusts it as a memory or his mind playing tricks on him, filling in the gaps like it had created whatever kind of daydream that he was in now - one last fantasy before he died. 

Because that was the one thing Peter was sure of, above all else. 

He was dying - if he wasn’t already there. 

“I don’t know, MJ. Are you real? Am I?” He sighs, wondering why he was arguing with his subconscious - even if something deep in his gut told him that maybe it wasn’t, that maybe Michelle wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

That she was here - she _wasn’t_ but she was - living in some kind of twilight place with him. 

She couldn’t be - it was impossible, seeing her again after he’d just been thinking of her - like a coincidence. 

Like fate. 

Michelle had been everything like he had remembered her to be and more, without the awkwardness, knowing he was Spider-Man and the relief in not trying to explain that to her now feeling less like the result of an observant person and more like his own subconscious giving him what he wants.

Hadn’t this been part of his daydreams in high school? To talk to Michelle without all that nervous energy? To tell her that he was Spider-Man, an explanation for why he never asked her out?

It couldn’t be real _-_ _it couldn’t be_ \- no matter how much Peter desperately wished that it was, wondering how he’d been able to touch her if it wasn’t but knowing the mind could do wild things to escape the truth.

Especially considering what Peter was absolutely sure was real. 

The thought of May and Tony finding out what happened to him - what _was_ happening to him, dying out in the middle of nowhere - ached at something deep in his chest, nothing to do with the pain of what he knows now had to be his body struggling to breath in the cold, thinking that maybe his lung had collapsed. 

It hurt for several reasons - yet the thing that hurt the most was the realization that they wouldn’t even know something was wrong with him until it would already be too late. 

But there’s another ache in his chest, the idea that Michelle - if she was really here with him, something she can’t be, something impossible - was in some kind of similar situation, in some kind of in-between place between life or death. 

Peter had always expected that he would die long before his peers would - a natural conclusion of living his life as Spider-Man. 

But Michelle didn’t deserve that, even if he hadn’t seen her in years - that feeling encouraging him to say his next words.

“But I think-- I don’t know what’s going on, but we have to have some kind of choice right?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… you said you’re in a hospital right?” 

Michelle winces, as if Peter saying the words somehow makes them more real - something he doesn’t want to acknowledge anymore than she does. 

That they’re dead or about to be, wrestling with some kind of fantasy world that could be a creation of either of their making, even if Peter doesn’t let himself dwell too much on that. 

“Yeah.” She finally answers. “I don’t, I don’t remember everything. But I think something happened.” She gestures vaguely to her head. “Something… popped or something, I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

Peter shakes his head. “It’s okay. I don’t-- I don’t really remember what happened to me either.” 

Michelle looks at him like she knows that he’s lying but he ignores it, thinking to himself that from what she’d described that it likely had been some kind of aneurysm - the only thing he could think of that would make someone as young and as healthy as Michelle to remember being at her job and then… not remembering anything at all. 

“So what do we do? This doesn’t even make any sense.”

She taps a finger against her leg, Peter watching it before looking back at her. 

“If this _is_ real, if we both somehow found ourselves in… purgatory or whatever this is so then we what? Wait for judgement? Why just us two? Are there more people that we haven’t seen yet? What was the point of all this?”

Peter shrugs, feeling like there’s an invisible timer running out and that debating these kind of questions would make the choice for them - knowing in a way that he can’t explain that for as much as he was dying or already dead - that if this was real, that there was a choice. 

For her, at least. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know why or how but,” he takes a deep breath, exhaling out of his mouth as he says, “But I’m really glad that I got to see you again.”

She meets his eyes, Peter seeing something in him as she bites her lip, Peter continuing. 

“I wish I’d asked you out. Back then. Probably one of my biggest regrets.”

Michelle looks like she wants to laugh, a twisted smile as she says, “Pretty lame life if _that’s_ one of your biggest regrets, Parker.” 

Peter shrugs. “Maybe. But it’s true.” 

He holds her gaze for a moment before she smiles, nodding as she says, “For the record, you never would’ve asked me out.”

Peter frowns, only to smirk as she says, “I would’ve beat you to it. I _should’ve_ , at least.”

It’s something he would love to hear - he knows that - but he accepts it for what it is anyway, debating that it sounded like a Michelle thing to do even if he recognized now that he really would never know. 

She smiles then it falls, looking away as they both stare out into the city.

He can feel it - just as he had known that the shivering that had stopped when his body had started to succumb to hypothermia - the pain in his chest starting to subside indicating for him that it wouldn’t be long for him before the end. 

But Michelle had a choice, if this was real - she had to. And he wanted her to take advantage of it. 

“You should go home.” 

Michelle snaps her head back to him, eyes narrowing. 

“What--”

“I don’t know how any of this works, clearly.” He laughs, trying to hide the lump in his throat and failing as he continues. “But if this is like, the universe or purgatory or whatever, you should get a choice right?”

Maybe it wouldn’t matter. If none of this was real, she wasn’t even here. Maybe this was just his subconscious supplying one last hero moment - something Peter staves down, just in case it isn’t. 

Just in case it’s real.

Michelle waits, Peter trying to explain. “You’re in a hospital. You probably suffered from some kind of aneurysm or stroke or something.”

Michelle’s expression changes, catching on to what Peter’s meaning.

“You should go home, MJ. I think-- I think if you really wanted to, you could.”

His words settle over them for a second, Peter feeling the last twinges of pain in his chest for a second - a moment, a searing almost blinding moment where he feels everything and nothing all at once, a whisper of a goodbye to May, to Tony, to everyone he’s ever loved in his life - and then it’s gone, fading away. 

And he knows it. Just as much as he knows - _hopes_ \- that Michelle has a choice. 

He can’t go back home - not in the conventional sense, knowing that if he did there would be no one there to greet him, not until it would already be too late. 

But he can get her there, he has to get her there - not wanting to risk her in any form, a figment of his subconscious or not. 

“You should go.”

“What are you going to do?” Her voice is steady, eyes focused on the ground. 

Peter’s… not sure, wondering on some level if she feels it too. That compared to her, there’s no hope in that sense for him.

There’s no going back - not when there would be no real chance of someone being able to save him - even if the idea of that makes him wish he’d called May or Tony one last time. 

But he gets the feeling that there is a forward, wondering to himself if he could just stay here - in the city, the place that he loved, wondering even if he could find Ben and his mom and dad here anyway. 

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly, Michelle meeting his gaze - pleading with her, or maybe just himself, willing for the daydream to both be real and not. 

“But you should go.”

* * *

There’s a part of Michelle that wants to. 

She wants to go. She wants to live. She has too much she wanted to do - _wants_ to do - to let herself give up now. 

But there’s something that whispers to her that it wouldn’t be giving up, if she let go. 

That maybe the universe or magic or her subconscious granted her this for a reason - this chance to see Peter again, almost as if they were making up for something that should’ve happened a long time ago. 

She can see it then - in her mind - another life, one where her and Peter had gotten over themselves, had grown together after the Blip ather than apart. 

A life where they’d trusted each other as more than casual friends, but as something more. As best friends. 

Trusted each other as more than that. 

She can see it so clearly, she can almost taste it - the sense of another life where it would be her and Peter against the world - doing anything, everything and anything. 

Together. 

Michelle feels the weight of the decision, one that feels unfair - knowing in a way that she can’t explain that Peter’s has already been made for him. 

That if she would leave, that he wouldn’t be there waiting for her. 

It’s an impossible decision, in any scenario but especially after tonight - after having this brief chance of something with him, something that she’s not even sure is real. 

This could all be a fever dream, her subconscious - the certainty that Peter has that this is real making her head spin, wondering if she’d had too much to drink the night before, if her mind was just playing tricks on her. 

If this was just her brain giving her what she wants in the last fleeting seconds before the end - a chance meeting with the boy she’d been in love with in high school, the one who had gotten away. 

It had be - this couldn’t be real. Peter was off at MIT for finals and she went to NYU - any information that he’d told her tonight just her subconscious playing tricks on her, a dream before her alarm went off in the morning. 

Maybe it was real. 

Maybe it wasn’t.

But Michelle suddenly felt crippled with indecision, a feeling she wasn’t used to - thinking she couldn’t take that chance. 

Peter just stares at her expectantly, waiting for an answer - something she feels she can’t give especially when she wasn’t even sure if any of this was real. 

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t real, there was no way. 

She stares into his eyes, a million things passing between them. 

Real.

Not real.

She didn’t know. 

But Michelle was glad that she saw Peter - even if this was a dream. 

She’d missed him, more than she’d ever allowed herself to really think - thinking that if it wasn’t real, that if she went home and woke up that she should call him - see how he’s doing. 

But if this _is_ real, if Michelle wakes up and he’s not there - she doesn’t know which is more cruel. 

To have created a daydream in her head, of Peter and who he would be, of saying the kind of things she’d always wished that he had when she was sixteen? 

Or to have actually seen him again - a version of him, no matter how impossible it was - and to have chosen to leave him behind? 

Michelle stares into his eyes one more time, the decision weighing so heavily on her - wondering on some level if there was really a decision at all, or if this was also her subconscious - letting her have one last semblance of control. 

But then Peter smiles. 

Real.

Not real. 

Michelle didn’t know.

But she did know one thing - certain of something at least as the alarms go off in the distance. 

She’d always liked Peter Parker. 

Michelle smiles back.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And that’s all folks! The last of my holiday series! I’ll still be updating WIPS but this was the last new story. 
> 
> For reference, [this](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6t5irzXUK_E) is the elevator scene mentioned in the tags. Start at 2:30 <3
> 
> Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas Eve Eve!!
> 
> :)
> 
> I love it when people yell at me in the comments. Or come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com)


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